Love vs Hate
by Arwen Pevensie
Summary: One-shot. See A/N inside. :) Selina Kyle's thoughts on Batman/Bruce Wayne versus Talia Al Ghul's.


A/N So, I know I haven't posted on here in forever. Also, I know it's irresponsible to post something that isn't a continuity of any of my 'ongoing' stories, but I did a writing prompt and I kinda like the way it turned out, so I figured I'd post it. Also, I guess it can double as a 'teaser' for a fic I'm currently (guilty of) working on (instead of all of my WIPs L )…I'm trying a new tactic with it—writing the whole thing before I start posting chapters. I'm currently 16,000 words in. No promises on when it will be finished though. In the meantime, enjoy this drabble inspired by this prompt from Pinterest: Describe the same character twice, once to fall in love with him, once to be repulsed by him. (Disclaimer—Talia does not currently have a large role in the fic I'm working on, so don't let this one-shot get your hopes up on that. ;) )

P.S. I've got a ton of PMs to look through, so if you've messaged me and haven't gotten a response I will hopefully get to you within the next couple of days.

I don't own any of DC's characters, this is written for entertainment purposes only and not monetary gain, etc. ect.

Selina Kyle's PoV:

Bruce Wayne. Fine, chiseled features, immaculate dark hair. The playboy billionaire who could capture heart of any woman in Gotham, myself included. He had an affected charm when he played the 'handsome idiot' Gotham thought they knew so well. But I was lucky. I knew him even better. He was handsome, and charming of course, but he was so much more. He could be dangerous, ruthless, even, and yet caring, compassionate, and conscientious. I could always see the twinkle of mirth hidden in his dark eyes as he made his employees and investors believe he was a spoiled heir to a company and absolutely no head for business. He understood commerce, contracts, exchanges, and policies better than any of them. His charity events weren't just for show, as was so often the case with other social elite—Bruce always made sure the money went exactly where he intended it to. He believed strongly in justice, honor and duty. It was his creed, and he lived it well. It was something I admired about him; he was a shining light of an example which I could never hope to live up to. He did what was right because it was right, not for personal gain or any selfish reason. He risked his life to save others, even when they didn't deserve it. I loved him, not only because he'd saved me, not only because he was handsome, strong, and intelligent, but because of everything he was, all of those things that made him both Bruce Wayne and The Batman. Some things had been his choice, some things had been his destiny. He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth to be Gotham's Prince, and yet he ruled as wise and noble king with a heart of gold within his chest.

Talia Al Ghul's PoV:

Bruce Wayne. Fine, chiseled features, immaculate dark hair. The playboy billionaire who could capture heart of any woman in Gotham. Except for me. For me, when I looked at him, I didn't see a handsome prince charming. I saw my father's murderer. The Batman. The monster in the night. Every time his dark eyes met mine, I could hear my father's voice in my head, cursing Bruce Wayne's betrayal. Hear my father's plots for revenge. And with these came other memories, of my father, too. Painful ones. My father throwing out the man who had protected me for as long as I could remember, because he was 'broken.' 'Imperfect.' My father bemoaning Wayne's compassion, because, if not for this one fault, he was flawless. I didn't see perfection when I looked at Bruce Wayne. I saw a selfish, arrogant, conceited man, proud of the way he tricked people into thinking he was a handsome dolt, proud of the way he terrified criminals at night, proud of the pathetic lives he saved—people who were no more virtuous than the common thieves and rabble who roamed the streets. Was he proud, too, of killing my father to save his precious rabble? I didn't doubt it for a moment. When I looked at Bruce Wayne, I saw my father's blood and betrayal. I saw my mother screaming as she was pierced to death with knives wielded by angry fists in the prison where she'd been put by a rich but heartless man like Wayne. I saw Wayne taking the place that rightfully belonged to my beloved Bane as my father's right-hand man. Hatred. Rage. Revenge. All of this was what Bruce Wayne symbolized to me. Gotham would burn so that my father's plans would be achieved at last. And I would ensure that Bruce Wayne burned right along with it.


End file.
